


The Future In the Nick of Time

by Fenix21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Kink, Bottom!Sam, LINDEN RATING-read at your own risk but I don't particularly suggest it, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg!Sam, Panicked!Sam, Post-Season/Series 10 AU, Pregnant Sex, Supportive!Dean, difficult birth/labor, mildly graphic birth, request fic, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nervous, and self-conscious Sam is pregnant with twins, creeping up on his due date, and Dean decides to help out on a hunt at the last minute. The hunt goes fine, or actually doesn't go at all, and the twins get authoritative and decide to make their debut while Dean is still gone.</p><p>There is hot pregnant sex to be had, a long and harrowing birth with a panicked Sam at one end of the phone line and Dean on the other as the Impala burns up the road to get him back to the Bunker in time, but will he make it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fic for Lisa whose prompt was as follows:
> 
> I thought about something post season 10 au with Sam having a long, difficult labor in the bunker, Sam is terrified, Dean has to calm him down, helps with their twins delivery. Would be awesome if you included pregnant sex with top!Dean and belly Kink:), but truly I'm fine with whatever you wanted to write as long as there is a happy ending, mpreg!Sam and no bottom or mpreg!Dean.
> 
> I think I hit on everything and I hope it fills the bill! :)

'Yeah, Virgil, I'd like to help out, but—' Dean sighed in frustration as Virgil launched another plea from the other end of the line. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard. 'All right, man. All right. Twenty-four hours, though, okay? That's all I've got to give you this time, and I am stone cold serious.'

Virgil's relieved and elated gushing grated on Dean's nerves, and he cut him off. 'Great. No problem, Virgil. I'll meet you at six tomorrow. Yeah. Got it.'

He thumbed the phone off and sighed. Sam was not going to be happy about this. He sighed again and hung a right down the hall toward his and Sam's room where his brother was resting, but as he neared the slightly ajar door he heard heavy breathing, strained panting, and then a low moan.

'Sammy?' Dean quickened his step and pushed the door wide.

What met his concerned gaze was a little surprising.

Sam was on the bed, propped in a nest of pillows, but instead of sleeping he had a hand down the front of his sweats and the other rubbing in wide, rhythmic circles over the expanse of his heavily pregnant belly.

Dean leaned into the doorframe, not able to help the smirk on his lips or the the tight, hard twitch of his dick in his jeans at the sight on the bed.

It took Sam a second to realize he wasn't alone anymore and when he did, he groaned in embarrassment, jerked his hand from his pants and tried to tug his t-shirt back down over his round belly.

'Don't stop on my account,' Dean drawled. 'That was quite a show.'

Sam flushed and tried to hide his face. Dean came into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

'Hey, quit that,' he said softly, reaching for Sam's chin. 'It's fine. I was just teasing you.'

Sam tugged at the hem of his t-shirt again. 'I know. I just…'

'Just what?' Dean asked gently.

Over the last couple of months as the twins had started to put on some real weight, and Sam's belly had gotten bigger, rounder, and more prominent than ever, he'd started getting skittish and self-conscious about how he looked.

'I just didn't want you to see…' Sam muttered.

'See what?' Dean pressed. 'You all hot and bothered and jacking off? 'Cause, really? That's pretty hot stuff, Sammy.'

Sam rolled his eyes. 'That's not what I meant.'

'Then what did you mean?'

Sam folded his arms across his chest, trying to hide, as if that were even possible for a man six-foot-five and nine months pregnant with healthy twins. 'Dean, I'm _huge_ , okay! I know it. I look…ugly.'

Dean took a firm hold of Sam's chin and forced him to look up. 'You are _not_ ugly. At all. Period. So quit the hell talkin' like that. We've had this discussion already.'

'Yeah, like a month ago,' Sam protested. 'I'm twice as big now.'

'You are _not_ twice as big,' Dean said, 'and even if you were, it wouldn't make any difference.'

Dean slid closer up the bed, eyes flicking briefly to the still obvious bulge of Sam's arousal. He slipped a hand up under the t-shirt Sam was still ineffectually tugging at the hem of and flattened his palm against the warm curve of his swollen middle.

'Want me to prove it?' he asked.

Dean ignored his brother's pleas of protest and shifted on the bed so he could get both hands on the huge, full globe of Sam's belly. He started to rub steady, broad circles that brought his thumbs tantalizingly close to Sam's straining cock.

'Turns you on being all full and rounded out like this, doesn't it, Sammy?' Dean said. Sam whimpered in answer, pushing his belly out into Dean's warm, wandering hands. Dean suppressed a groan and bent to press a kiss just above Sam's poked out belly button. He looked up from under his lashes. 'Then why won't you believe it does the same thing for me?'

Sam's eyes shot a little wide as Dean stopped rubbing  circles on his belly long enough to reach for Sam's hand and drag it down to cover the stiff, twitching bulge of Dean's dick.

'Dean?'

Dean licked a wide, wet stripe up the curve of Sam's belly and pushed his hips forward so his throbbing cock rubbed hard into Sam's palm.

'Fucking hot, Sam. You being so pregnant. Your belly so big and round.' Dean groaned heavily. 'Wanna rub myself against you, Sam. Wanna rub all over your big belly.' 

'Oh, God…Dean!' Sam's hips punched upward and his sweats got wet from the sudden spill of pre-cum at Dean's hot words. 'Yes, please…Dean, do it. Want to feel you against me.'

Sam caught Dean's hands and took control of the circles he was rubbing, making them bigger and pressing harder. He rolled his hips and moaned.

Dean licked at his belly and kissed it again and again. 'Gotta get out of these clothes, Sam,' he panted. 'Now.'

Dean stripped off Sam's sweats and left him to wrestle his way out of his t-shirt while he divested himself of his own shirts and jeans and boots. The phone dropped to the floor, completely forgotten.

Sam stretched out against the pillows, letting his legs fall open enticingly. His cock was long and hard and jutting up against the curve of his burgeoning belly.

Dean stroked himself a couple of times to take the edge off and then knelt on the bed between Sam's open thighs. He spread his hands wide on either side of his brother's full belly and marveled at the weight and feel of it, and the fact that in less than ten days he was going to be holding his son and daughter for real.

'Dean?' Sam asked tentatively at his brother's sudden stillness.

Dean swallowed thickly, momentarily overcome with awe. 'Sorry, Sammy.' He bent to kiss his brother's belly again. 'Just—just havin' a moment, I guess.'

''S okay, Dean,' Sam assured, sifting a hand through Dean's short hair. 'It's nice.'

Dean pressed his cheek to Sam's belly right where their son's spine was rounded and pressed outward. He nuzzled it gently, closing his eyes against the sudden, sharp sting of tears.

'God, Sam, you're amazing. You know that? So amazing…for giving us this,' Dean whispered.

Sam was struck speechless and could only cup Dean's jaw in his hand as his brother kept his face pressed against the swell of his belly. They stayed that way for a minute or two until Sam finally said quietly,

'Dean, if you don't…want to?'

Dean looked up, and Sam was shocked by the stark need and heat in his brother's bright gaze.

'No, Sam. Uh-uh. You don't get off that easy.' Dean shifted upward, keeping his weight braced out on his arms and off of Sam, until Sam could feel the stiff length of Dean's cock pressing hard against the lower curve of his belly. He moaned in pleasure.

'God, Dean…yes, please. Just like that.'

Dean circled his hips, thrusting long and slow against Sam's belly. 'So hot, Sam. So, so hot.'

Sam rolled his hips hungrily and rubbed at his swollen middle, moaning out his pleasure in little needy whimpers and gasps.

'Dean…want you in me,' Sam begged. 'Please! Wanna feel you deep inside me.'

Dean slowed and looked down in cautious concern. 'Can we do that? I mean, still? As close as you are?'

Sam nodded vigorously, grasping at Dean's hips and dragging him downward. 'Oh, yeah. Absolutely. In fact, they say it's healthy.'

Dean wasn't all together convinced, but he didn't have the strength of will to argue against his swollen, aching cock, and he gave in with a groan and shifted to one side, dropping down beside Sam.

Sam made an aborted attempt to roll onto his side, but his belly was too weighty to make the maneuver anywhere near fluid or smooth, and he flailed a little, gasping, 'Little help here?'

Dean obliged and gently pushed Sam to his side, helping him situate a pillow under his belly to keep him comfortable. Sam huffed in relief at the shift of weight and took an unexpected, welcome deep breath.

'Sam, you good?' Dean asked.

'Yeah,' Sam assured, settling back more thoroughly against Dean to feel the hard line of his cock pressed up against his buttocks. 'Oh, yeah. Real good.'

Dean scooted back a little to make room for his hand so he could work Sam open, but Sam grasped his wrist and dragged it around to press it on his belly again.

'Sam?'

'I'm okay, Dean. I'm ready. Just—,' Sam wiggled backward with a little needy grunt. 'Just do it.'

'Babe, I gotta get you loose first,' Dean said, nosing at Sam's shoulder, trying to tug his hand back. 'Don't wanna hurt you.'

'You won't,' Sam insisted. 'I am. Loose. All the—the muscles and stuff, relaxing for the birth, and all that,' he explained hurriedly. 'Just don't worry about it.'

Dean gnawed at his lip a second in hesitation and then wiggled closer and pushed his dick up between Sam's ass cheeks, working it in slow little pushes to slick it up on his own pre-cum that was leaking steadily by now. Sam was holding Dean's hand firmly to the huge curve of his belly  and stroking it repeatedly, down and around with each pass. Dean gave an urgent punch with his hips and felt the head of his cock slide against Sam's hole and then slip inside without anymore than a token's resistance and a sharp gasp of pleasure from Sam.

Sam was right. He was all loose and relaxed, and Dean seated himself to the root of his cock in one easy stroke.

Sam groaned long and loud and squeezed down on Dean's swollen length. He rolled his hips, urging Dean to move. 'Feels so good, Dean,' he panted as Dean picked up a strong, slow rhythm. 'So goddamn…good!'

Sam nearly cried out as Dean changed the angle and stroked over Sam's prostate.

'That good, Sam?'

Sam gulped for air and nodded, fingers going tight around Dean's hand as he stroked over that sweet spot again, prompting Sam's muscles to clamp down.

'Ain't gonna last, you keep that up,' Dean growled, pulling back and thrusting in again to be met with another clench of Sam's velvety, hot insides.

'Me neither…Dean? Oh. God!' Sam cried out. Without warning, he came long and hard, spilling hot, thick ropes of cum across the backs of both their hands and all over his belly.

'Jesus, Sam, Jesus…' Dean groaned, feeling himself get even harder over the fact that Sam just came so hard and completely untouched and was still spasming sharply around Dean's swollen cock.

He loosened his hand from Sam's, dragged it through Sam's warm, slick cum, and rubbed it over his pregnant belly. Sam moaned and clenched down on Dean's cock again, the aftershocks of his orgasm and Dean's hot gesture of ownership riding him high and hard.

'Do it, Dean. Christ! Need to feel you come in me,' Sam urged him. 'All hot and wet and gushing and—'

Sam choked off as Dean cried out loud and curled, tense and rigid, around Sam's back, hips stuttering out his sudden, fierce orgasm, filling Sam to the hilt until he could feel his brother's hot cum overflowing him and dripping from his ass onto the sheets between them.

'Jesus, fuck…Sammy,' Dean gasped. He buried his face in the curve of Sam's neck and just lay there breathing hard for a long minute.

Finally, he lifted up a little and unstuck his cum covered hand from Sam's skin. 'Ugh…Sorry. That was…kind of unnecessary. I made a mess.'

Sam laughed a little and pulled Dean's hand up to his mouth where he slowly licked first one finger, and then all the rest, clean. 'Nah. That was perfect.'

'Careful, Sam,' Dean warned with a low growl. 'Unless you're up for round two.'

'Well, if you are, then—oh!' Sam cut off on a tiny grunt of pain.

Dean sat up on an elbow. 'Sam? You okay?'

Sam rubbed a hand at the side of his belly below his ribs and let out a slow, measured breath. 'I'm fine. It's okay. Your daughter's just decided to express her displeasure with our activities.'

' _My_ daughter, huh?' Dean said, smiling fondly. He reached to rub near the same spot Sam was.

'Yeah. Yours. _My_ son is behaving himself perfectly and not causing his daddy any undo distress,' Sam teased. ' _Your_ daughter, however, is a rambunctious little hellion.'

Dean leaned up and over Sam's hip and planted a large, wet kiss to his belly where the last sonogram had shown their daughter curled up tight beneath Sam's ribcage, protected almost entirely by the curve of her brother's larger body.

'That's my girl,' Dean whispered, grinning.

Sam swatted his shoulder and then gasped again at another sharp, unexpected kick. 'Okay, okay,' he crooned. 'We get it. Playtime's over.'

Dean rolled up to the edge of the bed. 'Want me to run you a warm bath?'

Sam nodded, massaging another spot on his taut belly. Dean didn't move at first, just sat and watched in awe as his son and daughter made their presence known to the point he could almost make out the shape of a tiny foot or fist as it pressed outward against Sam's belly.

'Dean?'

Dean looked up to find Sam watching him curiously. He reached out and stroked a warm palm over the curve of his son's back under Sam's tight, pale skin. 

'Beautiful,' he whispered, and met Sam's gaze head on. 'Believe me, now?'

Sam could only swallow and nod.


	2. Chapter 2

'Look, Virgil—twenty-four hours. That's what I said.'

'Dean!' Virgil chased Dean out of the motel room. 'C'mon, man. Just one more day. I've almost—we've almost got this by the short and curlies.'

Dean popped the Impala's trunk and slung his duffle in before he turned around to halt Virgil's advance with a stiff finger to his breastbone. 'Virgil, you told me the day before yesterday you had this all wrapped up. You just needed an extra pair of hands for the tag and bag.' Dean gave him a pointed little shove backward. 'When I showed, you still weren't even sure if you were dealing with a vengeful spirit or a revenant.'

Virgil's shoulders slumped. 'Look, man…I just need a little help.'

'Yeah, obviously.' Dean pinched rubbed a hand across his mouth and reached in his pocket for his phone, checking for any missed calls from Sam.

Sam had been less than thrilled when Dean had finally told him about his deal to meet up with Virgil and help him out on this hunt. He was less than ten days from his due date and just getting common everyday stuff done was a chore for him now as big as he was getting with the twins, but Dean had made triple sure he had everything he'd need for the couple of days—tops—that he would be gone. 

That wasn't the only thing that bothered Sam, though. What really bothered him was the idea of something completely unexpected going wrong and Dean being injured, or worse, killed. Dean had tried to allay all these fears, assuring Sam that he was just going as back up, just an extra pair of hands, which was absolutely true. But then Sam's bottom line fear had finally surfaced.

_'Dean…what if the babies come and you're not here?'_

_Dean pulled Sam in, holding him until he relaxed against his shoulder, reassuring him through words and touch that everything was going to be fine, and he was definitely going to be here when his son and daughter decided to make their debut._

_'Sam, first babies are always late,' he said, sifting comforting fingers through Sam's hair. 'You've got ten days, and probably another week on top of that. I'm going to be gone two. Forty-eight hours. Max. I promise.'_

_He slid down the bed then and pressed a gentle couple of kisses to Sam's belly and stroked it soothingly._

_'Hey, you two, listen up in there,' he whispered. 'No making any unexpected appearances until I get back. Got it?'_

The phone's screen was blank except for the time and date, and Dean nearly let out a sigh of relief. He had to get on the road if he was going to keep his promise and get back in forty-eight hours, and it was going to mean driving the rest of the night at this rate, too.

'Dean? Man?'

Dean dropped his phone back in his pocket and held up a hand. 'Virgil, no. I'm heading home. I promised Sam. Call Julius or Marco. They should be in the area.' He pulled out his keys and opened the driver's door.

Virgil held out a hand with a resigned sigh. 'All right. Well, I certainly can't keep a man from his family. Thanks—for coming out, and good luck with the kiddos. Give Sam my best.'

Dean nodded, shook the offered hand, and dropped in behind the wheel, setting his phone on the seat beside him within easy reach. He'd get out on the highway and then give Sam a call to let him know he was on his way back.

Twenty minutes later, topped off with gas and a supply of hot black coffee, Dean hit the entrance ramp and dialed Sam's number.

It rang through to voicemail.

'Hey, just me. I imagine you're in the bathroom, seeing as how you have to pee every five minutes these days,' he teased. 'Anyway, I'm on my way back. Should be there in four to five hours, tops. Just thought I'd let you know. Call me back.'

Half an hour later, after no return call, Dean dialed again.

'Hey, Sam. Seriously, I'm thrilled if you're getting some shut-eye, but when you get this, call me. I'm gettin' a little nervous here.'

Another thirty minutes down the road, and Dean was testing the top end of the speed limit and calling home again.

'Sammy, I swear to God, Dude, if you' holding out on me or you let your phone die, I am going to—'

'D-Dean?'

'Sammy!' 

The sense of relief that flooded Dean almost made him dizzy. 

'Jesus Christ, Sammy! I'm having a fuckin' heart attack here. Where have you _been_?' Dean fretted and then froze, backtracking to the high, panicked note in Sam's voice. 'Sam, are you okay? What's wrong?'

Sam let out a shuddering breath. 'D-Dean, my water broke.'

Dean stared out the windshield at the black line of highway, momentarily dumb with shock.

'Shit,' he swore softly. 'How long ago?'

'Ab-bout an hour?'

'Jesus…why didn't you call me?' Dean asked desperately.

'There wasn't anything you c-could do,' Sam said, voice shaking. 'I started getting all crampy this morning, but I d-didn't think anything of it because, well, that's kind of been happening a lot lately, and th-then I had a couple of really bad pains, and my water broke, and—' 

Sam cut off with a sharp hiss of breath.

'Sam?'

'God, Dean…? They're getting bad. _Really_ bad,' Sam said, voice on the rise.

'Okay, Sam? Sam, listen to me. Just hang tight. This isn't going to happen fast. We've got time. Okay? I am—' he checked his watch in the dome light, '—three hours out. I will be there. I promise.' He heard Sam gasp with another contraction. 'Breathe, Sam. Just relax and breathe.'

'Dean, they're coming,' Sam said shakily. 'Our babies are coming. I am in labor and going to give birth and you are _not_ here!' His words were running together, coming all in a rush, in his rising panic.

'Sam. Don't panic. I _will_ be there. Ain't nothin' going to stop me, okay?'  Dean said firmly. 'You losing it right now is only going to make the babies fret. Remember? What you feel, they feel. So, think of them, take a deep breath, and try to relax.'

Sam took a halting breath and let it out in a rush. 'Dean, what if you don't—? I can't do this alone!'

Dean heard Sam breathing erratically and heavily on the other end of the line. He was going to hyperventilate if he kept that up.

'Oh, God…Dean? I feel…I feel lightheaded. I think I'm…going to…pass out,' Sam struggled to get the words out, gasping.

'Sam? Sam. Sit down. Now. Put your head between your knees,' Dean commanded sternly. He waited a few seconds. 'Sam, you listening to me?' He counted to ten, then again, 'Sam?'

'Yeah, Dean…I'm here."

Sam's voice was thin and wilted but muffled like he had indeed sat down and put his head between his knees. Finally, he gave a weak laugh,

'Jesus, Dean, do you have any idea how hard it is to get your head to your knees when your belly is as big as mine?'

Dean shook his head, blowing out a held breath, glad that Sam was calm enough to attempt joking. 'Honestly, Sam? No. And I'm not too sure I want to.'

'Yeah,' Sam sighed, still slightly muffled. 'Next time, it's _totally_ your turn.'

'Right,' Dean said. 'Now…felling better?'

'A little,' Sam conceded. 'Just…don't hang up. Please?'

'No, Sam, of course I won't,' Dean said. 'If it'll help you feel better.'

'Yeah. Yeah, it will I think—oh.'

Sam cut off again and Dean heard a muffled groan.

'Sam, you having another contraction?'

'Yeah,' Sam said, slightly breathless.

'You been timing them?'

'Yeah. They're about seven—eight minutes apart.'

'Good.' Dean nodded at the dark. 'We're good until like…five, right? Isn't that what they always say?'

Sam huffed a laugh. 'Yeah, that's what they say… _in the movies, Dean_.'

'Well!'

'Jesus, you're hopeless,' Sam sighed, but Dean could hear the long-suffering smile in his voice. 'Dean, I'm going to put you on speaker and walk a little.'

'Okay, just take it slow and don't go far.'

'Yes, Mom.'

'Shut-up.' Dean turned on his own speaker and propped the phone on the dash. 'Feelin' it, huh?'

'You could say that,' Sam's voice drifted a little was he moved away from the phone. 'If I thought I felt like I was going to pop before? It's nothing compared to now.'

'Bad?'

'Let's just say if you poke me too hard, I swear I'll explode. That's what the pressure feels like, uh…oh. Oh, oh, oh, ohhhh!"

'Sam, you okay?' Dean sat up straighter in the seat, hands clenching on the wheel, waiting anxiously for Sam to respond. 

'Contraction,' Sam gasped. 'Bad one.'

'Sam,' Dean glanced at his watch again, 'that wasn't seven or eight minutes. That was more like…six.'

'I-I know,' Sam said. 'Dean, that was the worst one, yet. I think—I think they're getting closer and stronger.'

'Okay,' Dean soother. 'Okay, just stay calm. You're doing great, and I'm right here. We're good. We're fine.'

'Yeah…we are,' Sam echoed uncertainly, then in a small voice, pleaded, 'Dean? Please hurry.'

Dean eyes flicked to his watch, then the mile marker that flew by in the dark, and he pushed his foot a little further down on the accelerator.

——

Two hours and forty-three minutes later, Dean wasn't sure which of them, he or Sam, was in worse shape.

'Dean, I can't—can't wait any longer,' Sam panted frantically. 'I can't! I have to push!'

Dean clutched the phone tighter, jerked the steering wheel hard when the Impala tried to fishtail through a curve in the road that he took about twenty miles an hour faster than he should have.

'Sam, listen to me. Breathe. Pant through it. Just give me ten minutes. Ten minutes, okay? I'm right around the corner. I swear it, Sammy.' Sam cried out with another contraction, and Dean could hear him groaning as he bore down with the pain. 'Sam?'

'Dean, it's coming…oh, God, it's coming! Dean, I can't—I can feel it!' Sam huffed and panted and then grunted hard into another push. 'Dean! The head—the head is—I can feel it coming. Gah!'

 Sam cried out again and it disintegrated into another series of grunts as he continued to push.

The Impala's lights broke suddenly across the heavy concrete facade of the Bunker's protected entrance, and Dean slammed on the brakes, gravel spitting under her tires as they skidded him to a stop.

'Sam, I'm here!' Dean yelled into the phone, snatching it from the dash and scrambling from the car.

'Dean!'

Dean slammed through the front door and jumped down the steps two and three at a time in his haste to get to his brother.

'Sam, where are you?'

'Bedroom…' Sam groaned and was lost into another round of pushing.

Dean threw down the phone and tore off down the hallway, swinging around the door frame to find Sam sitting on the edge of their bed, one hand braced on the headboard, the other slung under his belly that was hanging low and heavy between his spread thighs as he hunched forward, pushing again with the urge to bear down.

Dean immediately crossed the room and dropped to his knees at Sam's feet.

'Sammy…Jesus…'

If Dean had thought for one second Sam was exaggerating over the last harrowing twenty miles about their babies coming, and right-the-fuck-now, then he was roundly corrected by the the sight of Sam panting and straining into his push as a mound of dark, matted hair crowned between his spread legs, stretching him obscenely, so that Dean's stomach nearly rebelled at the thought of how much pain his little brother had to be in, stretched so wide open like that.

'You're here,' Sam gasped. 'You're really here.'

'Promised you I would be,' Dean said, reaching to cup Sam's sweaty cheek in his hand and swipe away a frightened tear with the pad of his thumb. 'I'm so sorry I'm late, Sammy.'

''S all right, Dean. Just help me—oh. Oh! Ohhh!'

Sam hunched up again, groaning, broad hand going to the top curve of his rock hard belly and pushing downward. He huffed and strained with the push until he was red-faced, breathless, and his thighs were shaking with his efforts.

Dean rubbed at the top of Sam's thighs, helping hold them apart because he didn't know what else to do.

'Gah!' Sam heaved a breath and reared back. 'Dean, he's too big…I c-can't do this. I can't push him out!'

Sam was getting hysterical again. Dean reached for his face with both hands, dragged him down so they were eye to eye.

'Sam, you can. He's right here. I can see him, okay? You're doing great. Perfect, in fact, and all without any of my help, I might add.'

Sam's eyes went wide. 'No. Dean. You were—I couldn't have—'

'Teasing, Sam,' Dean said with a tiny smile. 'Teasing. Come on, now.' He pulled Sam's hand from the headboard and put it on his shoulder, then settled on his haunches, bracing himself so Sam could lean on him. 'I want you to focus, Sam. Focus and push. Let's get this little boy born.'

Sam nodded weakly and let Dean take his weight on his shoulders and take some of the strain from his muscles as he held his thighs wide apart for him with broad, warm hands. The next contraction rippled visibly over the curve of his belly and he tensed, back bowing forward, and bore down with everything he had. He felt his body give and stretch, burning painfully as the baby's head crowned fully.

'There you go, Sam,' Dean praised gently. 'That's right. Keep pushing. He's coming. He's coming, Sam.'

Sam kept pushing straight through to the next contraction until he was forced to ease up and take in air.

'D-Dean?'

'You got this, Sam,' Dean assured him, massaging his thighs to ease their shaking. 'One more good push and the head will be out.'

Sam gave another quick nod and gripped Dean's shoulder hard, bearing down again into the next contraction.

'That's it! Sam, that's it!' Dean said, grinning. 'There's the head. Just relax and take a breather for a second, huh?'

Sam panted through the next couple of contractions, trying to shore up his strength for the difficult work of pushing their son's shoulders out.

'Dean, I think…nghhh!'

Sam rolled forward and groaned long and hard with the pain that wound up from his back and around his belly, riding the contraction with a vengeance, pushing until he thought he'd turn inside out from his effort. But after ten minutes of this, the baby's shoulders hadn't budged, and Sam was getting frantic.

'Dean, I can't! He won't come! Oh God, I can't—Dean, why won't he come?!'

'Sam, hey, listen to me, now,' Dean said calmly. 'We don't have a choice here. He _will_ come. I know he's a big boy, and I know it hurts, and I know you're tired, but you can do this, little brother. I know you can.'

Dean took hold of Sam's other hand and pulled it down between his legs and held it firmly against the curve of their son's skull.

'Feel that, Sammy? Huh? That's our little boy. _Our_ little boy, and I want to meet him, and our little girl, too. But the only way that's going to happen is through you, Sam.' Dean caught Sam's gaze and held it for a long, intense second. 'Now. You ready?'

Sam took a deep, deep breath and as the next contraction waved up and over him and peaked, he bore down with every ounce of strength he had left, and with a loud, gutteral cry, delivered their son into Dean's waiting hands.

'I got 'im, Sam. I got him,' Dean said, voice hushed and soft, breaking just a little as he stared in awe at the tiny body in his hands that gave a weak little mewling whimper and then sucked in a breath and let out a loud, long cry. 

'Sam, he's beautiful.'

Sam was shaking from head to foot, barely able to stay up right, clinging onto Dean's shoulders. He watched with tears streaming down his face as Dean wiped their son clean, used his boot knife to cut the cord, and then held him up for Sam to see.

'He's just beautiful, Sam. Just like you.'

'Dean…'

Sam wanted nothing more than to take his son, whom he'd struggled so hard to birth, into his arms and hold him, but his belly was already getting hard again, and he could feel the contraction gathering in the muscles of his lower back, gearing up to bring their baby girl into the world.

'Dean…?'

It was all Sam had time to say before he was hunched and clutching at Dean's shoulder, bearing down with the pain.

'Steady, Sam. Slow and steady. Breathe,' Dean coached. He sat down cross-legged, cradling their son in his lap as he braced Sam open and coaxed him through the push.

In no time at all, their daughter's head crowned, and Dean was cautioning Sam to take a breather after he had fully birthed her head in less than twenty minutes. A significant improvement over the hours spent pushing their son out.

'Wow. Sam, she's comin' fast.' Dean whistled in disbelief.

'I know,' Sam panted. 'I—oh!'

He tensed suddenly, and with hardly any effort, gave two long, solid pushes that had their little girl slipping from his body into Dean's strong, steady hands in a fraction of the time it had taken her brother.

'Dean?' Sam asked, after too many long seconds of silence without so much as a whimper from their baby girl. Dean's shoulders were tense and tight beneath Sam's shaking hands. 'Dean, why isn't she crying?'

'Just…give me a second, Sam. She had the cord…wrapped around her neck…' Dean turned their little girl's limp, slightly blue body over his arm and rubbed at her back as vigorously as he dared. 'C'mon, sweetheart,' he whispered. 'Breathe for me, baby girl. Don't you let your papa down.'

'Oh God…Dean…?' Sam was collapsing in on himself, breaths starting to come short and sharp and painful. 'Dean please…'

Dean kept rubbing at the tiny body, turned her over and cleared her airways again, and then massaged her chest. 'C'mon, baby…'

The little body shuddered under his hand, drew a halting, stilted breath, shuddered again, and then let out a piercing cry.

'Thank God,' Dean breathed.

Sam dissolved into messy, near hysterical sobs and collapsed over Dean's shoulders, clinging to him like there was no other support in the world that could keep him upright right now.

Dean held the slippery, wet infant securely to his chest with one arm, shoulders curling instinctively and protectively around her small body while his other hand found its way to Sam's hair. He turned his head and kissed Sam's ear and jaw and cheek, combed his fingers through his damp, tangled hair and hushed him.

'Sam…Sammy, it's okay now. Everything's fine. We're good. We're _all_ good.'

Sam couldn't stop his crying, but nodded against the warm curve of Dean's neck and clutched him closer.

The babies, both disoriented, cold, and hungry after being so rudely expelled from the cocoon of there daddy's warm, safe belly, began to protest in synchronized wails.

Dean squeezed at the back of Sam's neck, gentle but firm, trying to urge him to sit up straighter. 'Sam, how do you want to do this? I know we talked about… Did you ever decide?'

Sam hiccuped against another sob and struggled upright. 'Uh, yeah, I'll—I'll feed them.'

Dean nodded and tucked both infants against him before rolling forward to his knees and slowly pushing upward while Sam used Dean's shoulders as leverage to reposition himself somewhat haphazardly against the bed, upright enough that Dean could hand over their son and watch with rapt astonishment as Sam hesitantly lifted the squirming infant to his breast where he latched on with a fervor.

'Oh!' Sam huffed a soft, surprised breath.

Dean smiled and set to cleaning up their little girl and bundling her warmly before settling her in the crook of Sam's free arm where she also latched on with equal vigor.

'You're a natural, Sammy,' Dean murmured. 

Sam smiled weakly, but it quickly pulled into a grimace, and he hummed in evident discomfort.

'Sam?'

Sam shifted his hips, panted a couple of times, and then spread his legs, bearing down a little. 'I think it's the—the—'

He faltered, moaned, and Dean just gave a short, sharp nod, shifting his brother into a better, more relaxed position, and urging him to push gently, slow and easy. A few minutes later, Sam delivered the afterbirth—twice—tagging the twins as fraternal and whisked the mess away with the same efficiency he'd used to clean up gutted monster remains for nearly twenty-five years. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't fun to think of all that gore being inside his brother, but it was the least of things after what Sam had done and been through to bring their son and daughter into the world.

When the babies were well fed, their little tummies all rounded out and full of Sam's warm milk, Dean bundled them warmly and laid them in the bassinet Sam had unearthed from one of the Bunker's many store rooms three months back that came complete with it's own set of very powerful carved sigils and wards.

He bathed Sam and changed his clothes for him, stripped the bedding and remade it, and ensconced his little brother back into his nest of pillows and blankets to rest. Then he set about sponging off his new little girl and boy and carefully examining their tiny bodies for any mark or blemish and memorizing every detail of them fully as he washed and dried and lotioned and dressed and swaddled, and finally tucked them into their own nest of pillows beside their daddy before gratefully sinking onto the mattress behind Sam and curling warm and solid and close against his brother's back.

Sam sighed and shifted, pressing back into Dean. 'I'm so sorry, Dean,' he whispered.

Dean poked his nose hard into Sam's shoulder. 'What the hell you talkin' about, Sam?'

Sam sighed again, but it sounded significantly more forlorn this time.

'Because I was such a mess.' Sam's voice hitched and broke a little, and Dean felt him take a breath and hold it to try and contain the sob pressing up from chest.

'Sammy, you are _not_ a mess,' Dean said firmly. 'You just did the hardest, most awesome thing in the world.'

He stretched his arm across Sam and rested his hand ever so lightly on his daughter's gently rising and falling chest, amazed how the breadth of his wide palm nearly engulfed her tiny body.

Sam brushed his fingers across the back of Dean's hand, almost petting at him, nervously, then he moved his hand to rest on their son's chest where he rubbed gentle, absent circles against the thin, fragile, finely formed collarbone under his thumb.

'Dean, I'm not—I don't know if I can—if we—' Sam stumbled over his words, shoulders starting to hitch and shake, mirroring the uncertainty plain in his voice. He pulled his hand back, rested it on his brother's forearm, trembling fingers brushing up under the rolled cuff of his shirt against the tender skin just below the inside of his elbow.

Dean took hold of Sam's hand, covered it, squeezed down hard. 'Sam, you pay attention now.' He paused and pressed his mouth close to Sam's ear, breathed there, waiting for Sam to give the tiniest nod of acknowledgement. Dean continued then, solemnly, 'We made a decision, Sam, and it was a good one. Come what may, we're all right. You hear me?'

'Are we?' Sam whispered, barely audible. 

Dean squeezed Sam's hand again, holding it firmly to the place where the Mark had spent more than a year emblazoned on his flesh. There was no shadow of it now, not on his skin, and no whisper of it in his mind. The red lightening had burned it from him, inside and out, leaving him clean, with nothing but what he had always been.

'Yes, Sam. We are.'

'But if…' Sam hesitated. 'We don't know if…'

'It's been over a year, Sam. Nothing has happened. Not to me. Not to the world at large. Heaven and Hell are minding their own business and mankind is slogging along like it always has.' Dean smiled softly and tucked a kiss behind Sam's ear. 'Like you said, we caught a break this time.'

Sam tugged his hand free so he could loop it across their newborn son and daughter and tug them a little closer in their sleep, as if he wanted to protect them against something—maybe the whole world.

'But what if we didn't Dean? What if it's only biding it's time? If the worst is yet to come?' Sam's voice was a broken, trembling whisper. 'Dean, what we've brought them into if—?'

'Sam.' Dean slid his arm up alongside Sam's where it cradled the twins. 'The world is chock full of 'what ifs,' and you know as well as I do we can't be ruled by those. If Dad had lived by 'what if' or 'might have been' we wouldn't be here now. Hell. We might not be anywhere. We might be dead.

'We can't just stop living because we're afraid of what might come next, and _this,_ ' he snugged his arm closer around his new family, 'is what we decided we wanted next. We didn't want to be the end of it, Sam. We wanted to pass on what we know, to leave a legacy behind, like one was left for us. Right?'

Sam nodded and snuggled closer, trying to meld the four of them into one being, if that were possible, just by proximity alone. 'Yes, that's what I wanted.'

Dean didn't miss the pronoun and lifted up so he could look in Sam's face. ' _We_ ,' he said firmly, distinctly. 'We, Sammy. I wanted it to. Don't you ever believe for a second I didn't.' He buried his face at Sam's neck again, heaved a breath that may have been an aborted sob, but he wouldn't let Sam know that right now. 'This right here, Sam? You, me, our little bouncing bundles of joy who I'm sure will be running us ragged in no time? _This_ is what I've always wanted…for both of us. That we get to have it together? That's probably the single most amazing reward I'll ever get, Sam, and it makes everything— _everything_ —I've ever had to suffer through, or ever will suffer through, worth it.'

Sam nodded wordlessly, on the edge of tears again. Dean nuzzled closer, nudged Sam's head around until he could kiss him long and deep. He pulled back then, just a fraction, and kissed the pads of his fingers on one hand and brushed them softly over first one soft baby cheek and then the other, and Sam bit his lip at the awesome swell of tenderness in his chest when he saw the tiny heads turn the barest little bit in their sleep in the direction of their papa's touch. Dean brushed his fingers against Sam's face last, turning his head, looking him in the eye.

'Thank you, Sam,' he whispered, voice rough with emotions he would never be able to put into words; that, quite frankly, words had probably never been written to express—though if he ever had the opportunity to ask the Scribe of God before he dispatched him from this particular corner of the universe, he would definitely remember to do. 

'Thank you for giving us this future.'


End file.
